


Fall to His Wish

by cloudsurfing



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: First Time, M/M, season one coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsurfing/pseuds/cloudsurfing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he didn't know better, Derek would think that John was doing it on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall to His Wish

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on livejournal 4 Sept 2008.

Cameron's skin is still re-growing. She fixed what she could of the damage done by the car bomb but she has to wait for her human shell to re-grow, and part of a gleaming metal skull is still visible under most of one side of her face. John is eating cereal and staring at her with a sort of horrified fascination, and Derek is leaning against the kitchen wall, watching John stare.  
  
Derek only hopes that this might serve as a reminder to John that this isn't a pretty girl that they're living with, that all it'll take is one crossed wire for her to flip and kill them all. John misses his mouth with his spoon from staring too hard, and Derek tries very hard not to laugh. This is the fearless leader of the last human resistance? Christ.  
  
It's hard to reconcile. Sometimes he catches a glimmer in the boy of the steel that Derek recognises from the man, and it gives Derek shivers every time he sees it.  
  
From where Derek is now, he'll get to see the evolution of John Connor. He'll get to see this teenager turn into the man who defied the machines, who saw the end of humanity itself on the horizon and drew the last stragglers together; taught them to fight and to win and to never, ever give up. Who inspired loyalty that bordered on fanaticism, who raised an army that lived and died on his word and was proud to do it. The man whose very existence began a battle that spanned time itself.  
  
Right now he's scrubbing milk off his face with the back of his hand and looking embarrassed about it, but Derek supposes that everyone has to start somewhere.  
  
John stands up, leaves his dishes in the sink and goes to fetch his schoolbag, brushing past Derek on his way out. Derek's sure that he stops breathing for the fraction of a second (or hours, whole minutes at least, it must be) that John is touching him. He lets out a shaky breath once John has left. That's something else entirely; the thought of living under the same roof as John, having spent so many years in close quarters with him with this want that never went away, was never satisfied. Even the knowledge of who John is – his  _brother's_   _son_ , and that's far too wrong right there – hasn't changed that. If anything, it's only gotten stronger since he'd come here and seen a version of John who doesn't have to be constantly on his guard, who doesn't have such a weight to bear.  
  
When Derek looks up, Cameron is watching him in that way she has that makes Derek think she's trying to work something out. His fingers itch for his gun, for a trigger to pull, and he leaves before he does something that Sarah might make him regret.  
  
-  
  
If he didn't know better, Derek would think that John was doing it on purpose. It almost seems that John can't walk across a room any more without accidentally almost walking into him, can't so much as pass him a plate at dinner without their fingers touching.  
  
Perfectly innocently, or so it would seem; Derek has no reason to think otherwise. But Derek's never been great at impulse control, and his limits are starting to be tested. Especially when the bathroom door opens as Derek's getting out of the shower, leaving him trying to wrap a towel round himself and not slip on wet tile, sure that he'd locked the door and swearing at John to get the hell out.Derek still managed to notice that John didn't look nearly surprised enough for the situation to be accidental.  
  
Derek would say it feels like indirect, childish attempts at seduction. Or testing the waters, maybe. He  _would_  say, if he didn't know better.  
  
-  
  
They have more important things to think about. They have a triple-eight walking around with a plan they couldn't even guess at. They have Skynet's retarded baby brother on the market and available to the highest bidder. They have an actual apocalypse to stop.  
  
Derek knows this. He's seen it, the world that the machines will create. But when he goes outside and he can see a blue sky and grass and parks with kids playing in them, it doesn't even seem possible, and all he can think about is what John's skin would feel like under his hands. It keeps him awake at night. He lies in the dark, listening to Cameron patrol around the house and thinking about being able to do things to John that Sarah would probably castrate him for even thinking.  
  
His old, comfortable fantasies of the John he has known for years have adapted; they switch interchangeably to this John, young and impressionable, until Derek can no longer tell the difference.  
  
-  
  
John's school has a careers fair. He comes home early declaring that there was no point in him staying, they didn’t have any stands on becoming the leader of the human resistance. His bedroom door slams behind him.  
  
Later that night, Derek knocks on John's door, two bottles of cold beer in one hand. He hears a muffled 'fuck off' from the other side, and takes it as invitation to go in. John is lying on his bed, staring at the spiderweb of cracks in the paintwork on the ceiling.  
  
"Didn't you hear me?"  
  
Derek shrugs. "I heard. Just didn't listen." He holds out one of the bottles to John, and waits until he takes it. John looks surprised, but pleased, Derek thinks. It's about time someone starts to treat John like an adult, even if it's only letting him have a lite beer when he's had a crappy day.  
  
Derek sits down at John's desk, on the opposite side of the room. He could have moved closer but that was a bad idea, especially in John's bedroom, especially with such a slim hold left on his control. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, and it's surprisingly companiable. Derek wouldn't know how to have a heartfelt man to man chat about what's bothering John if his life depended on it, and he hopes that John understands that the company and the beer – this is Derek trying to be supportive. It's John who eventually breaks the silence.  
  
"What did you want to be, when you were a kid?"  
  
Derek thinks about it. He frowns, casting his mind back, but gives up. "I don't know. I can't remember." Actually, he can't imagine any more a world in which he isn't a soldier. Childish dreams were quickly forgotten in the future he grew up in.  
  
"Oh." John looks disappointed. "Okay."  
  
"That's not going to be you, though. We'll find a way to stop this." Derek wills John to believe him, but he's not sure he's convinced himself, yet. John sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, peeling the label off his beer bottle.  
  
"I wish I believed that. But we thought we'd done it before. Mom thought she'd stopped it twice, and she didn't change anything." He stands up suddenly and walks over to Derek, puts his bottle down on the desk and Derek registers with dim surprise that it's already empty. A heartbeat later he realises how close to him John is standing. He wants to slide a finger through John's belt loop and tug. "I've always had this great  _destiny_  mapped out for me. So, when do I get to have something I  _want_?"  
  
Derek's mouth is dry. He tells himself he's imagining that John has moved closer, and now he doesn't know why he thought that this was a good idea; alone with John, with his head full of thoughts he shouldn't be having. He drops his beer next to John's on the desk and stands up.  
  
"I should go. It's late." He takes a step away, but John catches hold of his arm. "John." Derek tries to put enough warning into his voice for John to take the hint, but he doesn't let go.  
  
"Derek, please. Just, just let me –" John runs out of words, and he kisses Derek, clumsy and off centre for the two whole seconds that it takes for Derek's resolve to crumble. Derek pushes John back against his desk, follows him and kisses him again, hard and messy and wet and  _perfect_ ;he hears John's soft moan and he feels John pressing his body up against him, pulling Derek closer.  
  
That's when Derek's mind takes one last ditch effort at rationality, and he pulls away, takes a step back because there's no way he could stop now if they were still touching. They're both breathing hard, and John looks debauched, sprawled back on his desk, shirt riding up, his mouth kiss-bruised and his eyes dark with hunger. Derek backs away - his hands are actually shaking - and he turns and leaves, ignoring John calling him back.  
  
-  
  
Things are actually worse now. Derek didn't think that it was possible, having lived in a state of near constant tension for so long. But now John doesn't pretend. There are no more clumsy attempts at subtlety and subterfuge, there's no point. Now, whenever there's no one around, John is making it very clear what he wants, with wandering hands and covetous eyes. Derek finds himself always leaving the room if they're alone together, pushing John away if he gets close, but John just smiles at him, like he's certain in his eventual victory.  
  
Now that Derek's had a glimmer of what John  _feels_  like, young and eager and responsive, he knows that he won't be able to stop himself a second time. His dreams have taken on a whole new dimension, having actual experience to draw on, and every time he looks at John he feels himself getting hard.  
  
Derek's standing at the kitchen sink three days later, and he doesn't even notice that John's there until he's right behind him. John presses himself against Derek's back to reach around and open a cupboard next to Derek's head. Derek stops breathing, and John takes out a water glass, but doesn't move away. His hands are resting on the countertop on either side of Derek.  
  
Derek turns round, and god, he didn't expect John to be so  _close_.  
  
"You're too young."  
  
"I'm sixteen."  
  
"Which is  _too_   _young_."  
  
"How old were you?" Derek begins to answer and falters. He'd been fifteen. John notices the hesitation and grins. Derek can almost picture John's mental chalkboard: John 1, Derek 0. "Then I'm not too young."  
  
"That's not the only reason." John is Kyle's  _son_ , how can he do this knowing that? John either doesn't know what he means or he doesn't care because he only seems to get closer, until they're all but sharing air.  
  
"Then stop me."  
  
And Derek can't. John's eyes finally leave his as they fall closed, as John kisses him. Derek feels weak, his resistance has failed; his skin feels on fire and he goes from zero to frantic in five seconds flat, finally giving in and responding like he wants to. He fumbles to unfasten John's jeans with numb fingers and the second he's touching skin Derek is instantly, painfully hard.  
  
Derek takes firm hold of John's cock, and John breaks the kiss with a needy, incoherent sound and reaches for Derek's own jeans, which makes it Derek's turn to smile.  
  
"Is this what you wanted?"  
  
" _Yes_."  
  
John's voice is like nothing Derek's ever heard, low and rough and sounding like sex, and he knows he wants to hear John like this again, and again. Until John tugs down his jeans and takes hold of him; then Derek doesn't have the presence of mind to know anything.  
  
It's too quick, too intense; John's inexperienced and  _new_  and Derek is aware for every second that he got here  _first_ , this is John that his head's been full of for as long as he can remember, gasping and clinging to him, biting down on his shoulder in case someone's around to hear him as he comes. Derek lasts maybe half a minute longer.  
  
He feels like a teenager again himself as he comes down - from a mind-blowing fumbled handjob in … in the  _kitchen_ , for fuck's sake, which clearly means that his sense has fallen out of his head along with his grip on reality and his self control.  
  
For long seconds they just stare at one another, sticky and breathing hard and with no idea what to say. Derek can only think that at no point was  _this_  on the agenda of things to do when he came back in time.  
  
Then there's the sound of a car door closing outside, and footsteps on the driveway. John's eyes go wide with panic as they both realise at the same moment that it's Sarah and Cameron, coming home from a supplies run. Derek has a sudden and crystal-clear vision of how he's going to die, and its Sarah Connor who's killing him. He doesn't hesitate for so much as a second; he pushes past John and heads for his room. He thinks that maybe John is following him, but he slams his bedroom door behind him before he can find out for sure. There's a brief pause, then he hears John's door close down the hall.  
  
-  
  
It's almost two in the morning when John comes looking for him, waking Derek from a sleep filled with vivid dreams.  
  
John's standing by his bed, staring at him. He doesn't even look nervous, or worried. He looks certain. Decided. It's an expression Derek's seen many times, over many years.  
  
"I'm not too young." It's what John says, but Derek thinks that he understands that he means much more. He's granting permission that he shouldn't be in a position to give.  
  
"Then you're too young for me."  
  
"No. No I'm not."  
  
He moves closer to the bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head. Derek doesn't turn him away.

 

 


End file.
